


A Million Reasons (But I need a Million More)

by Advocate_267



Series: Hesitant Space Lovers [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, F/M, Misunderstandings, Origin Story, Ravagers - Freeform, oc x cannon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Advocate_267/pseuds/Advocate_267
Summary: A comprehensive guide to why ravager romances never work (as told by Kraglin and Kaysi).
Relationships: Kraglin Obfonteri/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Hesitant Space Lovers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912807
Kudos: 3





	A Million Reasons (But I need a Million More)

**Author's Note:**

> Story inspired by the song Millions by Gerard Way.

They met in the most eloquent of places, as to be expected when the ravager flames flick over your skin. A weapons room, bathed in artificial yellow lighting and located deep in the grotty bowls of Knowhere. The owner of said establishment is dead by Kraglin's hand. Their mission squad’s prize, a stockpile of weapons of varying degrees of illegal, are blocked by a single A-Chiltarian. Her blaster, shaky as it may be, is trained on Kraglin's head, a steeled look on her face that dares them to try.

Yondu laughs it off, arrow buzzing an intimidating red trail around her skull. He sweeps her aside with an order for Kraglin to make sure she “don't try nothin’ funny”. Now their positions are switched, the business end of his own pistol trained to her temple. She doesn't cower or tremble like Kraglin hoped, doesn’t even look that put out, just stares at Kraglin with some unknown emotion. He doesn’t notice; she’s wearing a pair of goggles, ruby bug-eyes hidden behind thick lenses. 

There's a typical sweep of the place, a conversation, then a proposition. Next thing he knew 'Kaysi' was marched to the tailor's room for measurements. 

It was Yondu's idea, the sentimental fool, admitting her under the illusion  _ “a ravager who can count further than ten might be bloody useful.” _ Not to mention her vast knowledge of every blaster, grenade, and sword liberated from that vault. 

It earned her a spot within the rookie pool and Kraglin figured that the end of it. Their crew numbers were vast and the Eclector a huge maze of corroded corridors and mish-mashed rooms. You can’t keep tabs on everyone in an environment like that. Only time would tell if she could cut it among the stars.

* * *

He saw her again a week-cycle later scampering across the m-ship hanger, arms full of grenade charges needed for an infiltration mission. After a rudimentary skills assessment Kaysi had been deemed best fit for the armoury team, sorting stock and keeping their weapons in working order. 

It made sense, considering her previous job. According to Rossa, the ravager assigned to oversee Kaysi's initiation, she was damn good at it. 

He barks a snigger as she trips, charges going flying across the steel floor. Luckily none go off, incinerating her and half the hanger. That'd be a shame, m-ships were expensive to replace.

Kraglin finds out the extent of her expertise for himself when he pays the A-Chiltarian an unscheduled visit, blaster having been acting up. Their armoury is located low in the Eclector, near the training halls.  _ Hell of a walk to the crew bunks.  _ Kraglin muses as the creaky lift brings him to the correct level.  _ Wouldn’t be surprised if she sleeps in here.  _ Not that he was planning to find out, or even interested.

She's deep into a storage crate when he enters, bent over the rim and legs kicking comically in the air. He has to bite his lip not to giggle.

"Uh, Kaysi?" 

"Eep!" She startles, tumbling headfirst into the crate. Immediately she pops back up, fist firmly thumping her chest. "Sir!" 

_ Well, ‘least she’s respectful.  _ Kraglin reminds himself at the last minute to smother his grin. He settles on a briskness instead, waving the defective weapon. “Gun’s been acting up. Think yer can fix it?” 

She nods with a bit too much enthusiasm, hopping out the box with a similar spring.

They move to Kaysi's assigned workstation, a low metal bench covered in various guns in need of repairing. Kraglin perches on the edge, watching with interest as she pries the pistol apart to fiddle with the inner-workings. 

"This is the blaster you held against my head." It ain't a question or heated comment, just an observation. She snaps the casing shut but doesn't give it back, instead running sharpened claws over the metal. 

"A Starshot Mark-652. Nice condition, but this model is  _ ancient _ ." She faces Kraglin with a crooked smile. "Wanna upgrade?"

They spend the next hour browsing the haul together, Kraglin picking out potential pistols and Kaysi sprouting off the statistics of each. By the time Kraglin leaves he's got a new gun in his holster and an inexpiable warm, fluttery feeling in his chest.

* * *

A month in and Kaysi's allowed on her first off-ship mission. 

It's a basic steal, pop a few heads then move in for the prize. Kraglin's leading the charge, small team a mix of trusted comrades and faceless rooks he couldn't care less about. And Kase, stalking at the rear.

He looks back routinely, checking for laggers. Each time Kaysi's got her head down, silent and in step, custom AK-67 poised in case of mishaps. She gives off an air of professionalism but it's obvious she's fighting down jittery excitement, clear from the teeth catching her lip. 

He catches her eye on occasion, each time met with a confident thumbs up that sent an odd little jolt through his body.

_ She's so cute _ , Kraglin isn't too cold-hearted to admit it. Like one of the captain's little trinkets but as dangerous as the rifle clutched in her claws. 

The mission goes swimmingly, minimal casualties/disasters/damage all round. Back on ship Kraglin barters asking for her company during the celebratory shindig that follows successful steals. He dithers too long, the rookie already slunk off to the armoury by the time he works up the nerve. 

* * *

Cute isn't the only word he'd come to associate with the odd rookie. Feisty also comes to mind, as well as smiley. So very, very smiley. 

But it ain't soft or sleazy or snarky, just... joyous, pointy teeth flashing whenever Kraglin's around. Plenty of times he wasn't too, like when he catches her gazing longingly out the portholes, infatuated by the stars and distant planets they chug past.

He joined her once. Positioned silently at her shoulder, presence not registering until he remarks a casual "S'real pretty, huh?"

Kaysi had startled, ears flatting in an expression Kraglin could only deduce as shame. That fluttery feeling returns and he counters with a yellow grin he hopes comes across as charming. 

"Y-yeah," She stutters out, clearly tense. Poor creature probably thinks she’s violated some unsaid rule about slacking on duty. But Kraglin knows it’s her off cycle, having caught a glimpse when checking his own schedule. Whilst terrorising rookies was certainly a hobby for some of the meaner of the crew (and Kraglin doesn’t exactly shy away from showing the new blood his fangs, should they disrespect him) this fresh recruit hadn’t exactly been doing anything wrong. Besides, would be hypocritical of him to berate her. 

“Used to spend all my time starin’ at the stars, first time ah left the atmosphere of mah home planet.” He knows the feeling all too well; the amazement, the overwhelm of the sheer size of the universe. He gives her side a nudge. “You homesick?”

“Hell no.” She doesn’t take her eyes off the stars, speaking with a determined firmness that catches Kraglin off guard. “I spent half my flarking life in that weapons room.”

“Huh.” Despite the unwritten rule about not prying into another crew member’s private life Kraglin can’t help himself, asking curiously “What about the other half?”

“Not important.” She crosses her arms. Focuses on a far off spec that could be an asteroid or an enemy ship. “Don’t want to go back there either.” 

He doesn’t pry further, having dealt with Yondu enough to know the signs. She startles him with her own wary question.

“What about you?”

“Nah,” Kraglin shrugs. “Can’t be when ya call the galaxy yer home.”

She hums, simpering as an asteroid shoots past.

* * *

They've docked for a regularly-scheduled pleasure break. Kraglin joshed off to one of their old booze haunts, seeking to get buzzed before hitting the local bot-house.

He's mildly surprised to find Kaysi sat at the other end of the bar, grinning sweetly at the barmaid as she pays for an oddly-coloured concoction decorated with a multitude of fruity embellishments.

"The hell's that?" Scrote appears, barging her hard enough to slosh murky pink liquid down her leathers. "Didn't know ya was inta pussy drinks."

It's hard to read Kaysi, pupiless eyes and all, but there's no mistaking the annoyed edge to her tone. "So what if I am? Beats chugging that piss in your cup.” 

He scoffs, loud and demeaning. "This here’s a  _ man’s _ drink. What kinda ravager don't like beer?" 

"The kind that values their bloody stomach lining." Then she smashed a bottle over Scrote's head and ordered another two virgin cocktails to go.

Kraglin later found out that alcohol intolerance is a standard of A-Chiltarian biology, along with average heights of six foot and apparent flat-chestedness. 

Strangely, it doesn't bother him as much as it should.

* * *

Kraglin realises the severity of the situation when Quill, of all people, points it out.

"What’re you staring at?" The terran asks over his mouthful. When Kraglin doesn't format a reply he follows the first mate's gaze across the mess hall. 

"Geez, really?" Quill pulls a face that wasn't caused by the sour soup in his bowl. "She's flarking crazy, man. Last time I tried to sneak into the armoury she chased me out with a freakin’ chainsaw. I didn't even know you  _ got _ those in space." 

Kraglin smiles dopily, deciding he likes her even more.

* * *

Kaysi doesn't realise the severity of the situation, not until Half-Nut brings it up with his usual tact.

"You and Kraglin banged yet?"

The A-Chiltarian looks up from her holo-list, head tipped to portray confusion. "What do you mean?" 

"You  _ know _ ," He made a series of vulgar hand gestures that made Kaysi cringe. "Yer a thing, right?

She pauses. Months had passed since her and the first mate’s initial encounter. They did hang out from time to time, same as any ravager pals. His company always brought a smile to her face, like the candy stores she visits whenever they make port. However none of their late-cycle rendezvous involved anything raunchy like Half-Nut was getting at. 

She takes a deep breath, goes back to her stock chart. "No, we are most certainly  _ not _ a thing, least not in the sense you’re implying."

Half-Nut smirks, sly and dirty. "That so? How come he gets all blue an' blushy whenever yer around?"

"I dunno. Hormones?" She knew space pirates were a rowdy lot. Most couldn't last more than a few day-cycles without the need to grope something of the feminine and silicon variety. Not something she personally bothered with but she wasn’t gonna judge.

Half-Nut snickered, treating her backside to a teasing flick. "Pfft. Bet he wants to tap that." 

"Shut up, Half-fuck." An empty box is thrust over his head. "Besides," she mumbles, stalking to the other side of the cargo bay. "I'm not into that."

He giggles, tossing the cardboard obstruction off. "Nah, everyone knows the only thing you'll suck is a lollipop." 

Kaysi falls silent. She's spent enough time with the greasy ravager to know fained deafness is the best way to filter out his crude baiting. Half-Nut doesn't take the hint, sidling up to goad into her ear.

"You want mah advice-"

"Flark no!"

"I say ya should make the most of it, play it up for laughs. Let 'im act all lovesick and googly-eyed. Then when yer tired of it rip ‘im down where everyone can see." 

Kaysi stared at him, disgusted. "You want me to lead him on?" Her chart made contact with the side of his head with a satisfying  _ smack _ . "I ain’t some bloody whore! What kinda girl do you think I am?”

It unfortunately didn't defer the ravager, Nutty’s psychotic grin not leaving his face. "A sneaky one. S'fun game. You'll see." He sauntered out after that, leaving Kaysi to fume over his words. She gripped her chart hard enough to make the glass squeak, growling low curses under her breath. 

Half-Nut was wrong. Just because her and Kraglin were close didn’t mean they had to have, stars above,  _ intercourse _ for it to be true. Not everyone on this ship bonded by banging each other’s brains out. She was 99% sure he wasn’t interested in her for any kind of sexiness anyhow, not when there were beautiful bot hookers on offer (and more experienced ravagers on board between ports).

_ But that other 1%...? _

Damnit, now Half-Nut had her thinking. 

Kaysi pushed the notion away in favour of more pressing matters, like how she was going to trump Kraglin in their next sparring match. 

She met the first mate later for said match, both their shifts finished for the cycle. He greets her that trademark nervy grin, the one that exposes the metal buck-teeth jutting over his lip and she immediately thinks  _ oh no _ . 

This could get complicated.

* * *

"I've got a problem."

Rossa, Kaysi’s bunkmate, doesn't look up from the knife she's sharpening. "I've been saying that since you joined, ‘bout time someone else noticed."

"And it's disgusting."

"Every ravager on this damn ship is disgusting, ain't all that special."

“It involves the first mate.”

“He give ya herpes?”

“No! We ain’t- ugh! Why does everyone keep insinuating that?” She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends in a stressful display. “I think...I've got a crush on him."

There's an abrupt cease of movement. Rossa turns slow, scrutinising her with squinted eyes. "You what?"

"I've...gotten dangerously attached to the first mate?"

She scoffs. "I'd say you have. We’ve all noticed, the pair of you sneaking off every cycle or so. Though you was gettin’ some." 

Kaysi’d had enough of denying that notion, instead choosing to pace the room. She switched from tugging at her hair to pulling her ears in agitation. "But what do I  _ do _ about it?"

"Hell should I know! Don’t get why you’re telling me all this" Rossa grumbled. 

“You had,  _ you know _ .” Kaysi was aware it wasn’t wise to bring up Rossa’s deceased mate in any capacity, same on commenting on the silver bracelet strung around her wrist. Those kind of comments usually ended with her adding a new charm to the chain. “Plus you taught me near everything else about this ship.” 

"Well that teaching doesn’t extend to your love life. Leave me out of it." She rose, strutting for the door as Kaysi slumped on Rossa's now-vacant stool. The ravager paused at the door. "Though...try not to fuck it up, yeah? Ah’ve known Kraglin for a long time, boy’s hard as ice but he’s still breakable. I’ve seen ‘im hurt before, he doesn’t deserve a repeat.” 

Kaysi watches the door slid shut. Rossa’s words echo in her ears. She mulls them over, information sinking in. T _ ry not to fuck it up.  _ She’s new at this whole feeling business but hurting Kraglin was the last thing she wanted.

Still, Kaysi was a determined, if not curious to a fault, ravager. She’d try anything once, even getting affectionate with the first mate. 

Their deadly, sharp, adorkable first mate.

* * *

It's Kaysi who makes the first mildly romantic move.

No testing the waters, not flirting or teases. Just a straight up flail to second base.

Couldn't have been in a worse place or time. They're part of a retrieval squad on some sooty planet, up to their knees in manufacturing gunk that bubbled disturbingly and reaked of sewage. 

There's no subtlety about it. After narrowly escaping a swarm of tar-hornets she grabs his muck-smeared face and crashes their lips together. It isn’t a neat or prolonged gesture, not that something long was required. When she pulls back, milliseconds later, and beams lopsidedly up at him something snaps inside of Kraglin, letting forth shock and relief all at once. His hands find their way to her hips, pulling her close as the tar boils around them. 

* * *

Nothing happens after that. They don't talk about it. The rest of the crew talk about it (those on the mission had promptly shared it with everyone from the bridge to the brig) and tease them still. 

Kraglin wonders if she's having second thoughts. He’d been thrilled with the exchange (plus a little surprised, beforehand he’d been convinced his little crush was a one sided affair, Kaysi never showing much interest in him beyond hanging out in front of windows to watch the stars). 

It’s soon rectified, when that first kiss turns into a second, then a third, then a regular occurrence whenever they catch a private moment. 

She likes to leave sticky marks on his face, quick smooches gifted while her lips are coated with artificial sweetener from those candies she scoffs in place of energy vitamins. It’s nice, though he privately wished she'd make him sticky elsewhere. 

But Kraglin can wait. From experience he knew speeding too quickly was a recipe for disaster. She’ll come around to it eventually, and if she didn’t, well, Kraglin’ll have to quell his hesitation and step forward with a proposition sooner or later. 

* * *

Another day, another port.

Kaysi was off presumably stalking the shops while Kraglin parked himself in one of the planet’s skanky dive bars. At least this place provided entertainment of the pretty variety, a raised portion of the floor on the far side acting as a catwalk for a variety of dolled-up beauties. 

Someone joists his elbow, snapping Kraglin out of his lusty daydream. Tullk smirks at him from over his drink. "You not gettin' off with yer girl tonight?"

“She ain’t my girl.” Kraglin brushes him off, taking a long swig of his drink. It was agreed he and Kaysi would keep their thing on the low, just in case. Sentiment is the most dangerous weapon in their line of work. 

"Bit old ta be gettin’ shy bout that sort thing, ain't cha?" the ravager teases. 

"M'not shy either." He states it as definite as any fact, though the blue hue springing up his neck has other ideas on the subject. 

A new dancer appears from the split curtains, clad in a tight vinyl suit that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He imagines how Kaysi would look in it and immediately flushes blue. 

* * *

Kraglin's grumpy and relatively pissed by the time he leaves the club. For some reason he couldn’t relax, not even the light fingers of a busty dancer in his lap able to rest his hackles. He’s frustrated in all senses, and who does he run into on his stomp back to his m-ship?

"Oi!"

Kraglin halts mid-step. The sound emanate from a nearby ally and he half-expects some prostitute looking for trade. There's a beat of disappointment when it turns out to be the furry crewmate plaguing his mind. "...Kase?"

She's lent cooly against the wall, sucking on a lollipop (surprise, surprise). This one's round and blue and pink, meant to resemble the planet they're currently stopped on. Most likely filched it from some poor brat. She pulls the sucker from her jaws to flash him an easy smile. "Watcha doing?" 

His annoyance melts just a tad. Not enough to expel jubilance, but enough so he can manage a stiff shrug. "Nothin'."

"Looked like you was storming off somewhere to me." Her grin is sickly sweet. "Someone lookin' to get knifed?"

He shakes his head, ambles a little closer so he's also cloaked in the shadow of the casino next door. “Nah, just a bit wound up.” And sloshed. One arm’s lent against the wall to hold him up, putting him unintentionally into Kaysi’s personal space. She doesn’t seem to mind, positively perking at the proximity, even when his rancid booze breath washes over her face. 

She blinks up at him, rolling the lollipop between her fingers. "Well, do you  _ wanna _ do something?" 

_ Yeah,  _ his booze-fuelled brain supplied.  _ You.  _

But he wasn’t drunk enough to turn it into sound. Instead what came out was a slurred "What do you have in mind?" 

Her candy is jammed back between her teeth, leaving her hands free. One she pops on Kraglin’s shoulder, the other comes up to trace a finger down his tattoos, the ones curling behind his right ear. Her claw makes his skin prickle. "We could...go to a club?” She mumbles around her sweet. “That’s what you lot usually do."

He snorts, suppressing a shiver when she accidentally nicks his ear. "Though you didn't like clubs?"

She never had, preferring to sip her drinks under the terrace outside than experience the chaos inside. The claw pauses. Burning red eyes gaze up at him and she practically purrs out "I can pretend for someone special." 

That’s not right.  _ Won’t do _ . He doesn’t want to pretend no more, acting like this is enough, being too afraid. Moving too slow.

His returned smile is queasy, stomach even more so. He lowers, angling his neck to meet her eyes "Ah got a betta idea."

Quick fingers nab the lollipop from her lips. Before she can react Kraglin claims them, quelling all sounds but the surprised 'mmhm' at the sudden embrace. It's the first kiss Kraglin's initiated and damn was he gonna make it count. Kaysi doesn't retaliate, going lax as he grips her shoulders, shoving her back against the wall. 

It’s hot, heavy; a product of everything he’s been holding back. 

When he finally straightens, back starting to twinge from being bent to Kaysi's height, she's swaying as if she's been drugged. There’s a drop of blood trailing down her chin where Kraglin accidentally bit down on her lip and she licks it involuntarily. 

His insides burn with more than just spirits. He smirks as suave as he can manage, waving the pilfered lollipop under her nose. "You want yer sweetie back?"

"Nah." She smacks it away and surges forward, burying her face in his chest. He smells of booze and dirt and it’s perfection. "I got 'im right here." 

* * *

They go for coffee after that. Not back to Kraglin’s m-ship. Not to some grotty hotel room. Coffee. 

Kraglin sips at his, numb to the buzz. The cafe’s pretty much empty, scarce of life aside from the half-asleep barrister smoking over the register. Kaysi’s still chipper, munching on a choc slab happily while Kraglin watches with drooping eyelids. He declines her offer for a bite; stuff makes him sick at the best of times, mixed with all the alcohol in his belly and there’d be a right mess. 

“There’s an arcade down the street.” Kaysi chirps. “Could kill a couple of hours down there?“ She takes one look at his tired eyes and falters. “Or not.”

She finishes her treat before speaking up again. “You know what you need?”

Kraglin looks up.  _ To get laid. _

“A good nights sleep. C’mon, let’s get you back.”

He doesn’t fight it, truth be told he is feeling kind of ill, though the cause is lost in his jumbled mind. 

They snuggle up together, clothed and curled in the small bunk in Kraglin’s m-ship. And when he fumbles out of bed later to puke she’s at his back, always there, whispering comforting words as he makes an absolutely disgusting mess of the floor. 

* * *

Kraglin's aware he ain't no looker. Never particularly had been, always too pimply and scruffy and scarred to be a real lady charmer. His expertise lay in the flusty bumbling and queasy smirks.

Kaysi isn't exactly beauty pageant material either, all gangly limbs and dirty purple fur. Quill called her a 'space-gremlin' the other cycle; Kraglin didn't know what that was but it didn't sound like a compliment (Boy received a cuff for the disrespect). 

Guess that’s what made them right for each other, Kraglin mused, walking down the corridor with Kaysi in step beside him. On their way they pass a broom cupboard, suspicious noises emanating from the inside.

Kaysi doesn’t notice, excitedly nattering about some new knives she was looking to pick up during their next port.

Kraglin watches. Sure, she’s all bone and hard edges, but hell do those leathers look good.

Maybe it’s time to move this thing along. “Grow a pair of stones” as Yondu would say. Besides, what did he have to lose? 

“You wanna meet up tonight?” He blurts out suddenly. Kaysi cuts off her rambling to fix him with a cheerful grin. 

“Sure thing.”

Kraglin’s not sure if she gets what he’s insinuating but that didn’t matter. She said yes, tonight they were finally going to make this thing between them physical. Kraglin can’t wait. 

* * *

They're in one of the empty cargo bays. Bigger than your average maintenance cupboard but just as dingy. Kraglin guesses this floor hasn't seen the business end of a mope in over ten years. He's got great insight, having spent most of the night cycle on it. 

Kraglin runs his tongue over the back of his teeth. There's an ache in his jaw, not unlike the first time he got down on his knees for the captain. At the time he proclaimed the act of pleasure worth it. Kaysi socking him in the mouth was anything but. 

The A-Chiltarian stirs a few feet away, rolling from her back onto her stomach. "Was that good?"

It kills Kraglin. She looked so hopeful, bug-eyes brimming with nervy anticipation. He sits up, shooting her a plastic smile.

"Yeah, that was..."  _ disappointing _ "Fun."

The tension in Kaysi's shoulders thaws, giving way to happy relief. 

Their expected wham bam amounted to nothing more than messy kisses and wrestling on an unwashed floor. The only 'banging' that went on was when Kaysi hit her head on the wall and then accidentally punched Kraglin in the jaw.

He tried. 

He tried so hard to make it work.

He’s trying so hard not to lose it.

Kraglin’s stomach protests loudly. He winces. It's too early for morning mess but too late for a midnight snack.

Kaysi digs a hand into her leg pouch and pulls forth a star-shaped sucker. She thrusts it at Kraglin, innocent smile on her lips. "Wanna share?"

With a quiet sigh Kraglin relents. He jams the lollipop in his mouth. It's too sweet for him, tastes of artificial blueberry and sugar, but it's something. 

* * *

Kraglin’s acting odd. Yondu’s the first to notice, having spent years in the company of the lean Xandian he’s grown used to the signs of out of the ordinary behaviour. So he seeks out Kaysi, knowing the two ravagers spent a good amount of time together. 

"Hey, kid."

She jumps at the captain’s voice, instantly standing straight and thumping her chest in respect. “Captain?"

"Easy girl, ya ain't in trouble.” Yondu soothes, putting on a rare friendly smile. “I just wanna talk ta you about my first mate."

"Oh, uh, okay." Kaysi feels worry seep into her chest. Yondu most likely knew about their relationship, nothing was a secret on his ship, yet she couldn’t help the sudden panic at him bringing it up.

They sat down in the empty mess hall, seated opposite each other on one of the dirty tables. Yondu leans towards her. 

“So, you’ve probably noticed he’s been a bit down recently. Any idea why that might be?”

“I think he’s a bit disappointed with me.” Kaysi says, studying her claws. “We haven’t...ya know, yet.”

Ah. Yondu tilts his head, looking at her with serious yet caring eyes. “Do you wanna?”

“I’m not sure. But,” Kaysi sits up with sudden confidence, puffing her chest out. “I’ll try anything once.”

“Alright, good luck.” Yondu pats her on the head before she leaves, calling back as she reaches the door. "And a little suggestion. Call 'im baby boy." He adds with a cheeky wink. "Trust me, ya won't regret it." 

* * *

It’s easy to find Kraglin’s door. Getting inside is a little trickier, but a few hard fists against the metal rouse him up. Soon as the door slides open, revealing Kraglin in all his ruffled sleep-deprived glory, Kaysi tackles him. 

Kraglin’s pretty darn strong, and Kaysi’s been working to build up some strength since joining the ravagers, but even then she didn’t carry enough weight to knock Kraglin literally off his feet. 

So he catches her, hooks his arms under hers and as she nuzzles his chest. 

“Kase?” He’s confused. Not protesting the attention, but this kind of behaviour is reserved for their waking hours, rarely Kraglin’s bedroom in the middle of the night. 

“I wanna do it.” She states bluntly. Looking up at Kraglin with an expression she hopes comes across as lusty. Kraglin’s dumbfounded look morphed into a shy smile.

“Yeah?”

“C’mon baby boy.” She bats her blunt lashes. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Kraglin’s inside melt. He picks her up bridal style, hurrying over to the bed before roughly dropping her down. Kaysi’s giggling the whole time, using it to cover up her nervousness. 

Her clothes come off first, ripped away and tossed to the floor. She shivers as Kraglin’s eyes roam over her furry body, liking his lips in appreciation. He’s already stripped down to his boxers, those coming off in quick succession. 

Kaysi gasps. Now, she’s caught a glimpse of his biology in the showers before, but seeing, well,  _ everything  _ up close is a different matter. Kraglin catches her hesitation as he positions himself on top of her, pausing. 

“You sure about this?” 

The ravager nods, determined, and maneuvers her legs to allow access. “Do it.” 

He does. 

She screams.

* * *

Yondu knows something is up the moment he walks in the mess hall. Kraglin is seated on his own at one end, Kaysi with Rossa at the other. The A-Chiltarian won’t even look at the first mate, sad-looking eyes focused on her bowl. 

Yondu sits himself down next to Kraglin. “Mornin’.”

All he receives in a mumbled reply. In a uncharacteristic show of gentleness Yondu places his hand on Kraglin’s shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. 

“Ah don’t wanna pry, but as Captain I got a duty ta make sure my first mate is performin’ at full capacity. Wanna tell me what’s on ya mind boy?”

“It was a disaster.” Kraglin states glumly. “An absolute fuckin’ train wreak.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Kaysi came into my room last night wanting to do it. She was all go but when I…” His face crumpled and he hung his head. “Captain, ah didn’t mean ta scare her. She started cryin’ and screamin’ and I didn’t know what to do. I thought that meant she was enjoying it so ah kept going. Stars, I feel horrible…” 

Yondu hummed, continuing to comfort his first mate. He too felt a little guilty for setting them up. “It’s okay, boy. These things just happen sometimes.” 

Kraglin casts a look across the mess hall. Briefly he catches Kaysi’s eye but she quickly looks away, face twisted in shame. It hurts more than he’d like to admit.

* * *

“I can’t change.”

Kraglin straightens, having been bent down under the wing of his m-ship, to find Kaysi standing before him. It’s been a good while since their bedroom ordeal followed by painful days of avoidance. The ravager was sick of hiding, working up the courage to finally face her problems head on. 

He scrubs a hand across his sweaty forehead, nods. “Wouldn’t want ya too. S’not right.”

Slowly Kaysi steps towards him. She takes his hands in hers and brings them to her chest, gently rubbing his gloved fingers. 

“You deserve someone who can make you happy.”

Kraglin looks at her, mouth agape. “But...ya do make me happy.”

She shakes her head, regret clear on her face. “But I can’t satisfy you, not in the way you need.” 

There’s so much he wants to say but can’t find the words. He knows she speaks the truth, that he’s a bachelor with natural urges, urges it would be wrong to force upon her. That doesn’t make it any easier to accept. 

“But don’t worry.” She beams, lighting up the room the same as when he first saw her smile. She moves forward to hug him, gangly arms wrapping around his chest in a surprisingly strong embrace. 

“You’ll always be my number one.”

* * *

They’re on a Junker planet for a short holiday. The place is famous for its demolition derbies, huge races that take place nightly and draw mad crowds.

Despite the busyness Kraglin spots Kaysi running off with one of the female racers, wide-eyed and smiling in an all-too familiar way. 

He ignores the crack of his heart and goes to join Yondu. 

* * *

He never sees her again.

“Stayed on Skegg.” Rosa informs him without prompt. “Last I heart she got in on a job opening as a mechanic. Poor choice if you ask me, girl was good with a gun.” The ravager huffs, pushing hair out her face. “Oh well, guess we can replace her next port stop.” 

Kraglin resolves not to think about her, especially when he stands alone to watch the stars. That’s easier said than done as when he fishes into his pocket for a smoke his hand clamps around something sticky. He uncurls his fist, finding a star-shaped sucker.

It’s dropped to the ground, smashed into a million purple pieces under his heel.

The remains stick to the floor, a mess some rookie’ll have the pleasure of scraping off.

Kraglin doesn’t care. 


End file.
